Reminiscence: A Collection of Marauder Memories
by lumos123
Summary: A series of one-shots inspired by words and the Marauder-Era memories they evoke
1. Intro

Hello all! Welcome to my first story.

Well, it's not a story, really, but more a collection of one-shots. I was browsing on pinterest and saw a board filled with different words from various languages that express a certain feeling or situation. Each one shot in this collection will be inspired by a particular word and centered around a certain memory from the Marauder era. Most of them will be Jily, but I definitely want to focus on several characters (Remus, Sirius, Peter, the professors, Marlene, Petunia, etc).

I hope to update this _at least_ once every month, so check back frequently for updates!

And lastly, thank you for taking time to read this. You have no idea how much it means to me.

Much love.


	2. Balter

_Balter_

 _(v.) To dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill, but usually with enjoyment_

James Potter sank down into the soft, velvet red couch in the Gryffindor common room. The uncontrolled chaos around him was a sight for sore eyes—and sore muscles. The celebratory streamers of red and gold hung from vaulted ceilings, and the music of happily drunken voices filled the butterbeer and firewhiskey tinged air as Gryffindor house celebrated their quidditch victory.

The view before him blurred slightly—and this was not due to his poor eyesight. James Potter was intoxicated with the feeling of pride, relief, and in-the-moment happiness. He was also intoxicated from the chilled liquid he was drinking from a bottle enclosed in his right fist, but that wasn't as important. Beside him, a couple of fifth-years were rather intensely and horrifically snogging, looking like they were trying to eat the world's most delicious pumpkin pasty off each other's faces.

But James Potter did not care. He did not care that there was a large, sewn up gash running from his right ankle up to his knee. He didn't pay attention to the fact that his sore arms could barely lift the firewhiskey to his mouth. He did not care that he was drunk, even though it was his job to be the sober Marauder tonight. He didn't care that the snogging couple to his left were now lewdly brushing up against his shoulder. James didn't care that there was a war going on outside the decorated walls of this room, or the stone walls of this castle. In this moment in time, James Potter did not care about all the murders, or the dreadful feeling that in less than eight months, he would not be protected by the blissful ignorance that school provided.

James Potter did not care about any of this, because there was only one thing he _did_ care about.

And this thing was a few feet away from him, but directly within his line of sight. It was twirling and toppling over its own shoes, sloshing its drink around and singing rather off-tune to the current melody that was playing. It was happier than he had seen for a while now, which in turn made _him_ happier than he had been for a while now. James watched as this beautiful, magnificent thing took another large sip from its bottle of firewhiskey, and almost tripped over an upturned edge of the burgundy carpet.

He instantly lurched forward to catch it, the firewhiskey flushing out of his veins and returning sensation into his body just so he could catch the object of his affection in time—but alas, Remus had beaten him to it, and offered a steady hand to help this clumsy lunatic from faceplanting on the floor.

James Potter sat back down on the velvet couch in relief and continued to watch Lily Evans as she jerkily swung around her limbs to the tune from the record player. To anyone else, she may have seemed like an awkward uncle who had a touch too much liquor at a family wedding. But to him, she could have been Ginger Rogers. Lily bobbed her head from side to side, fiery hair mercilessly smacking at least four people in the face while she did so. Her hips swayed tantalizingly, but far too excessively for the type of song that was playing. She took Remus' hands and they both twirled in a circle, grinning like idiots and not caring about the other couples that broke apart due to their little dancing tornado that was wreaking havoc on the dance floor. She threw her head back laughing, stumbling over slightly and sloshing more firewhiskey onto the carpet. Her face collided with Remus' chest, and she rubbed her forehead-which was now red from the impact-laughing even harder than before, if that was even possible. Her two feet, enclosed in untied blue trainers, had trouble keeping up with the rest of her body, and to everyone else, she seemed like a hopelessly uncoordinated tangle of pale limbs and red waves.

But she was his fire, his source of energy. He'd let himself burn to ashes under her gaze if it meant he could look into her beautiful green eyes for the rest of eternity. James looked at this drunk, clumsy, inelegantly dancing masterpiece and smiled. For she was the light that he and so many others needed during these dark times, so who cares if she spilled alcohol all over the floor and down the front of Remus's flannel shirt? Who cares if she sang the wrong lyrics to the song? Who cares if her dancing looked far more like Sirius holding in a long-overdue piss than a trained ballerina?

She was perfectly imperfect. And when her green eyes caught his hazel ones, James got up and joined her and Remus and their hopelessly uncoordinated jiving, forgetting the years of dancing lessons Euphemia forced him to take. Forgetting that maybe, given the difficulty it took for him to even stand up, he probably shouldn't be dancing. Forgetting about the raging forces of evil developing outside the corner window. Forgetting that he had so many reasons to be unhappy during these dark times. Forgetting that from here on out, his life was only going to get harder.

James Potter forgot. And in doing so, he remembered how to live.

And so they danced-artlessly, without particular grace or skill, but with enjoyment.


	3. Kalon

_Kalon_

 _(n.) Beauty that is more than skin-deep_

"How long have you known?" he asks her, voice barely above a whisper. The cool autumn air surrounds them, orange and red leaves flying delicately in the air and settling at their feet.

Lily and Remus sat next to each other on a wooden bench near the Black Lake. It was their Place—a little utopian escape that the two friends often went to when they needed a break from their lives.

"Ever since about third year. Severus suspected it first, you know. Used to drone on and on about how you missed a couple days every month, always around the full moon. And how you came back looking thinner, weaker, and scarred. I didn't believe it at first, but—well it's hard to _not_ figure it out."

He looked at her, eyes wide and face painted with astonishment. "That long?" he asks, unable to believe that this person sitting next to him had known about his "furry little problem" for four years but had not shown even the slightest change in her demeanor towards him. "Why didn't you ask? Or say something? Or stop speaking to me?"

Lily's gentle smile faltered at his last question. It tug at her heartstrings—the realization that Remus's first instinct to someone finding out about his lycanthropy was fear. Fear that they would be disgusted by him, or would see him differently, or would completely disassociate themselves from him.

She looked at his tired face. "Did you really think I'm the type of person to do that?" she whispered, slightly hurt at his insinuation. "You _know_ how people treat me because I'm muggle born. They look at me like I'm some mountain troll droppings stuck on the bottom of their trainers. I know what it's like to be discriminated against—not just for being muggle-born, but also for being a witch" she said, trying to remember how long it had been since she and Petunia had spoken. "And I didn't want to confront you about it because it wasn't my place. I knew you'd tell me if you wanted to, and I wanted to respect your privacy."

Remus was stunned. He always was. It stunned him when Dumbledore showed up at his house when he was 11 and gave him his Hogwarts letter—something he was never expecting to receive. It surprised him when his best mates found out and were upset, not because he was a monster, but because he neglected to tell them sooner. It surprised him that they cared so much that they risked everything just so he didn't have to spend the full moons alone. And it surprised him that over the past four years, Lily Evans never inched away from him when he sat next to her, or flinched when their hands touched while making potions, or stopped giving him her rib-crushing bear hugs. He suddenly realized that she always offered to cover his prefect rounds after his time of the month and remembered to take notes for him in charms while he was away. And she always had "extra chocolate" that she gave him when he came back. _How did I miss this_ , he wondered, amazed at how his normally perceptive self was able to let all of this slide past him. "Were you scared though? When you found out?" he asked cautiously.

She turned to look at him, red hair falling into her eyes as she did so. "Not once" she replied firmly, hoping that for once in his life, Remus John Lupin wouldn't doubt how strongly his friends cherished him. "I knew you for three years before I found out, Remus. It didn't change a single thing about how I felt towards you or our friendship. Though I must admit, I was a little less upset about you missing rounds so much" she chuckled.

Remus could only stare at her. Her upturned nose was slightly pink at the tip from the cold, as were her freckled cheekbones. She was beautiful, without a doubt, but this was something everyone knew. But she was so much more than just her looks. There were only a handful of people that knew about his condition, and his mates always made sure that they helped him through every side effect that came along with it. But only now was he realizing the beauty in Lily's small but meaningful actions throughout the years, which went completely unnoticed until today. Everyone knew her for being the prettiest girl in their year, but he doubted very many people knew that her beauty went far deeper than just her appearance.

She could feel his gaze on her. "I hope you know, Remus" she said slowly, trying to figure out how to say what she felt, "just how much you mean to all of us." Remus smiled, wondering how a werewolf like him was fortunate enough to have such wonderful friends.

Lily looked at her dearest friend and enclosed his unusually warm hand within cold, long fingers. She looked into his green eyes with her own and whispered "I love you", wanting him to know that he was more than his "condition" and his scars.

He could quite literally feel his heart thawing, and he squeezed Lily's hand, a goofy grin plastered across his face. "Don't ever say that in front of James" he joked.

"Oh, you know what I mean", she said, grinning and lightly swatting his shoulder. And he did know, because he loved her just as much, and just the same, like a brother would love his sister. They both remained silent for several seconds, admiring the sunset as it dipped slowly beneath the horizon, setting a magnificent display of pink and purple hued colors across the sky.

"I can't wait for the day that some bird finally professes her undying love and attraction for you, you know" Lily quipped, smiling when she thought of all the relentless sex jokes that the Marauders would drown him with.

He smiled sadly at her naivete. "Though the idea of the endless teasing I would endure at the hands of my dear friends _does_ sound quite intriguing, I'm afraid that falling in love isn't really an option for me" Remus replied.

Lily whipped her head around. "What?!" she asked. "What do you mean?"

Remus crinkled his eyebrows together, surprised at her blatant shock. "Well who would ever want to date me, Lily? I mean just look at me. Look at my scars. My hair is already greying. And besides all of that, who would ever want to date me knowing who I really am?"

"Anyone in their right mind, that's who" she replied vehemently, her eyes blazing fierce and hard to relay the strength of her conviction. "And to be quite honest, I always thought you were the most handsome Marauder anyway."

It was true. Despite the grey strands and the scratches underneath his high cheekbones and along the side of his angled jaw, Remus was a striking young man. _Anyone would be so lucky to have him,_ she thought, _and he doesn't even see that_.

Remus chuckled. "That's another thing you shouldn't tell James" he said, wondering just how far Prongs's jaw would drop if her heard what Lily said just now.

Lily smiled at her best friend. "I mean it. You are so uncommonly kind, you know. You were there for me at a time when even my own best friend wasn't" she said, thinking back to horrible memories of a betrayal by Severus. "Your beauty is so much more than skin deep, Remus. Any girl would be over-the-moon if she found out that you liked her. Pun intended. I hope you understand that" she said softly.

And for the first time, Remus did. He understood because he saw the same beauty in her that she saw in him—the kind that traveled much deeper than the surface and was much more difficult to see, but all the more paramount because of it. He marveled at this brilliant witch—one of his dearest friends—sitting next to him, who had quite a knack for seeing this kind of deeper-than-skin beauty in others, perhaps most especially when they could not see it in themselves.

"Oh! Would you like some chocolate?" she exclaimed, breaking his train of thought. "I got some from Honeydukes this past weekend" Lily asked, pulling out an unwrapped bar of Remus's favorite chocolate. Remus beamed, helping himself to a rather large square.

They sat there until the sun set and the pinks and purples in the sky melted into a thick, twinkling black. And then they walked back towards the castle, arms around each other to shield themselves from the cold October air, two beautiful people, two beautiful friends.


End file.
